


Jon's Promise

by kjstark_17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Jonerys, My Season 8 Spin-Off, Tyrion is a villain, boat baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:31:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark_17/pseuds/kjstark_17
Summary: After the burning of King's Landing and the birth of Jon and Dany's daughter, Dany is betrayed and poisoned by Tyrion and Varys. Tyrion seized the throne for himself, with the child being his next victim. Before he could kill the child, Jon and the baby escape King's Landing. He raises his daughter among the free folk and disappears. Despite his disappearance, he is still regarded as the King in the North. The Stark siblings rule in his place.





	1. The Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Season 8 has been a huge disappointment, so I turned to fanfiction to help me cope. This is my first fic, and I'm not sure where it's heading at the moment...so bear with me, and go easy on me:) Enjoy!

“Flee, Jon. You must. Take the baby, take her North. Please, Jon. Promise me,” she whispered, lying in a pool of her own blood. Her violet eyes were now red, her cheeks stained with tears. Her face started to fade…she was limp in his arms.  
Jon awoke, gasping. He had these dreams, rather nightmares, nearly every night, but never grew used to them. He held his head in his hands. He could still see her smiling in the sun as she watched her dragons roam the skies. He could still see her lying on her deathbed, coughing up blood, her face pale. How often the latter appeared to him; an image he could never get out of his head. He promised to take their baby and flee. North, she had commanded. Even during her last moments, she still spoke with the voice of a queen.

So North he went. The journey there had been the hardest. He and the child battled the bitter cold, avoided the Kingsroad, and it took everything he had not to stop at Winterfell. He couldn’t go back, not now…maybe not ever.

Oh, but how he wished he could. All he wanted was to ruffle Arya’s hair and spar with her in the yards of Winterfell. To hug Bran and exchange stories. To bicker and drink ale with Sansa. Sansa would know how to care for the child because Jon sure didn't. Perhaps she would even serve as a wet nurse for the child. No, Sansa betrayed him. She told Tyrion. Tyrion and Varys...they murdered Dany. They wanted to murder him and his child. He had to keep going, to put his family in his past. 

The queen told him North, but he knew what she meant. He would go beyond the now crumbled wall, to where kings and queens and noble titles did not matter. Where no one bent the knee, where he and the child could live freely. Where she would be safe.

It had been five years since the love of his life died, since the burning of King’s Landing, since he began this journey. Every night he vowed to avenge his Queen. What he did the day she passed had not been enough. He beheaded the Spider, the Master of Whisperers, the eunuch who had poisoned Daenerys. But Tyrion still lived. He was the man behind the conspiracy, wanting to seize Dany’s throne for himself. The child was his next target. While he lived, the baby would never be safe. Jon swore to Daenerys that he would flee with the child and to protect her. But the day of reckoning would come to Tyrion Lannister. 

“Father?” a voice whispered. He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up at her. She knelt next to him, clutching her doll. The moonlight shone on her face; her stormy yet bright eyes illuminated. She favored Jon’s looks. She had his curly black locks and Northern features, but she had Dany’s smile. When Lyanna smiled, it was hard for him to stop himself from tearing, for her smile was Dany’s smile.

“Yes, Lya, what’s wrong?” He answered. He opened his arms, motioning her to come. She snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. 

“I had a night terror,” she whimpered. He held her close and stroked her back. 

“Me, too, sweetling. It’s alright now, though. I’m here. Close your eyes and try to sleep now,” he smiled softly at her. 

“What was your night terror about, Father?” she inquired. 

“Let’s not talk about such things. How about a story? Or a song?”

“A story,” she answered. She always loved his stories, begging him every night for a new one.

“One about Mother,” she added. Her favorites had always been about her mother. 

“Alright, my dear. Remember how your mother had dragons?”

“Yes! Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon.”

“Very good, little one. How would you like to hear about the first time I rode on a dragon?”

“Yes! Which one did you ride?”

“Rhaegal. He was named for your mother’s elder brother.”

“Uncle Rhaegar?” He would wait many years before he told little Lya about how Uncle Rhaegar was Grandfather Rhaegar as well. 

He nodded. “We were in Winterfell. We had gone to check on the dragons, for they were not eating. They weren’t used to the cold. Your mum had climbed on Drogon, while I was on the ground, staring at Rhaegal.”

“What did you do then, Father?”

“Well, your mum said, ‘Go on.’ And I said, ‘I don’t know how to ride a dragon…’”

“Then what?”

“She said, ‘Nobody does until they ride a dragon. I asked, ‘What if he doesn’t want me to?’ She smiled. ‘Then I’ve enjoyed your company, Jon Snow.’” He smiled, sadly. How he wished she could be here, telling stories to their daughter.

Lyanna giggled. He told her about how it felt flying through the air, racing Dany. He could still picture her silver hair blowing in the wind as she rode Drogon. 

She let out a yawn then, stretching her arms.

“Rest now, little one.”

“Yes, Father.” She rarely listened to him, but she was weak when she was tired. Like her mum.

“Father?” she asked suddenly. 

“What is it?” It was his turn to yawn.

“I wish Mother was here.” 

His eyes filled with tears. Bitter tears. Angry tears. Lonely tears. He wouldn’t let Lyanna see. 

“I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He choked back a sob.


	2. An Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon risks it all and takes a trip.

He awoke to Ghost licking his face and the sound of Lya’s giggles. 

“Ah, good morning to you too, boy,” Jon laughed. 

“Good morning, Father!” Lyanna cheered.

“Morning, Lya.” 

“King Crow, Baby Crow, get moving! We’ve got to go to Bear Island.” Tormund Giantsbane entered the tent. “Rise and shine,” he added.

“Bear Island? Why?” Jon inquired.

“An adventure!” Lyanna squealed, jumping into Tormund’s arms. The size difference between the two always astounded Jon. But Tormund was always gentle with Lya and doted on her. 

“Aye, princess, an adventure.” He answered, tickling her. She giggled.

“Tormund. Why Bear Island? You know we cannot be seen there. I will be recognized immediately. You want me to put my daughter in danger?” Jon demanded.

“Relax, Snow. I just need you to assist me with these trades. We’re running out of food, and winter isn’t getting any shorter.” 

“Why do you need me?”

“In case things get ugly. These Southerners don’t like us much, even still.”

Jon rolled his eyes. The free folk helped save the realm from the Night King and his army, but Northerners were stubborn shits. Still, he couldn’t risk him and Lya being seen. Tyrion is sure to have spies everywhere.

“Tormund, I cannot risk it. Take as many men as you need, but I will not be accompanying you.”

Tormund’s face hardened. Lyanna started crying.

“Father, please! I want to go. I want to see the world as you and Mother have.”

It was hard to argue with a crying five-year-old, especially one as stubborn as his little girl. But he knew what he had to do.

“Tormund, no. I can’t. I promised Dany that I would never do anything to jeopardize Lya’s safety.”

Tormund nodded. “She can stay here. The women will watch over here. She’ll be safe.” Lyanna sobbed. He looked between the two. 

“No. She comes with me. I can’t leave without her,” Jon replied. “Alright,” he continued, “I’ll go with. But I will not be putting myself in a position to be recognized.”  
Tormund smiled and nodded. He looked to Lyanna. “An adventure it is, little one!”

Her tears seemed to dry instantly as she smiled at Tormund. 

“Thank you, Father!” She cheered. Jon sighed and smiled, a smile that could not reach his eyes.


	3. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected reunion...

Weeks later, they arrived at Bear Island. They docked the ship and Tormund immediately went to work with the traders. The sea had made Lyanna quite sick, which had worried Jon greatly. But now that they arrived, she was much better and cheerful. She was so excited to be in a new place. Jon held her hand as they walked to the nearest inn. Gods was he starved. He knew his little one was, too. They sat near the back, furthest away from everyone else. He kept his head down and had his back towards the crowd.  
The two supped on salt beef and brown stew which was greatly welcomed since their rations were little beyond the wall. There had been wild game, but the snows had made it hard to track the animals. Lyanna chatted away. Jon loved listening to her babble, but he feared her talking would draw attention to themselves. He held a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh. We mustn’t be too loud.”

“Hmph,” she crossed her arms. She looked so much like Dany when she did that, it hurt. He was thankful for these reminders of Dany, but it stung once he realized she was still gone. It tore him apart, daily.

The back door opened. He saw a flash of bright red hair before he ducked his head down. It can’t be, he thought. 

“Jon?” a voice called out. He cursed. 

He lifted his head. There stood Sansa Stark, his sister, a woman grown before him. She was still tall, her red hair tied in a braid that went past her waist. Her eyes were warm as looked at him in wonder. They brimmed with tears. 

“Is it really you?” 

Jon stood. “Aye, little sister. What are you doing here?”

She slapped him. The warm look she had in her eyes was gone, replaced by her icy blue stare. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Where have you been the last five years?” Her tears turned to rage.

“I’m sorry. I…I can explain.” Jon replied, trying to do anything he could to avoid another slap.

“Father?” 

Sansa’s head snapped to Lyanna. She sat there, confused and scared.

“Father, who is that?”

“Jon?” Sansa asked.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” Jon pleaded. He didn’t want a scene.

“I’m renting an inn here. Let’s go there,” Sansa replied.

They went upstairs, Jon holding Lyanna’s hand as her little legs trudged up the stairs. They reached the inn, and Sansa locked the door behind them.

“Explain,” she demanded. 

Jon launched into what happened. Dany’s death, Tyrion’s betrayal, his promise, Lyanna, where he had been the last five years, everything. It was a good thing Sansa had been seated.

“Oh, my,” was all she could muster.

“Lyanna, this is your aunt Sansa,” Jon told his daughter.

Lyanna approached her aunt. She smiled at her, her grey eyes shining. “Hi, Aunt Sansa.”

Sansa looked as if she was going to cry. “Hi, sweetling. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“I’m happy to meet you, too. I like your hair.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sansa observed Lyanna’s slightly unruly hair. She smirked at Jon. “I'd like to think I'm better at hair than your father. Would you like a braid, too?”

“Yes!” Lya cheered. Sansa began running her fingers through her niece’s hair.

“It’s your turn now, Sansa.” Jon sat next to his sister. “What are you doing here?”

“We must restock our food stores. Winter has been hard. Thankfully, Lyanna Mormont has agreed to our negotiations.”

Jon nodded. Looks like Tormund and Sansa were here for the same reasons. Jon hoped Lady Mormont would be as helpful towards the wilding as she was with Sansa.

“Jon,” Sansa began, with hurt in her voice. “Why didn’t you come to Winterfell? You would’ve been safe there. Lyanna would have been safe there. We could’ve protected you.”

“I couldn’t. I told you, I promised Daenerys that I would…” Sansa cut him off.

“She said North. Winterfell is in the North, Jon.”

“I… I couldn’t. I wanted to; I swear it. But I was worried about my daughter. Dany wanted her to be free, safe.”

“You don’t think she would’ve been safe in Winterfell? Her family is there, Jon.”

“So are commoners that would sell information to Tyrion for a quick silver. I couldn’t have our location known. If Tyrion knew that we lived, he would have our heads.”

“I understand. But Jon, you are King in the North. You have loyal bannermen who would fight for you if Tyrion’s forces were to attack. You both would be safe in Winterfell. Please, come home,” Sansa pleaded. Her fingers worked quickly on Lyanna’s hair as if the braids were her last way of keeping her composure. She finished Lyanna’s braid and tied it.

“Lyanna, why don’t you sit and play with your doll now while I visit with Aunt Sansa,” Jon smiled softly. 

“Sure, Father.” Lyanna picked her doll up off the floor and began playing happily.

Before he could speak, Sansa added, “Just consider it, alright? It’s been hard without you. Arya doesn’t sleep because she worries about you. Bran is devastated that he couldn’t give word to you in time about Dany. He feels like it's his fault. The three of us share ruling Winterfell, but Arya is always training, while Bran spends his days in front of the heart tree. This is all falling on me. I feel alone. I need you, Jon. Our family is broken. We’ve lost Father, Mother, Robb, Rickon, now you…” Sansa choked back a sob. 

Jon was wracked with guilt. He hadn’t realized his disappearance had had such an effect on his family. He felt like sobbing. “Sansa, I…” 

“I know, Jon. I understand.”

She smiled at him as he wrapped her up in his arms. She sniffled into his neck. They pulled apart; their eyes filled with tears. 

“I’ll return to Winterfell with you,” he decided. He hoped he knew what he was doing.


	4. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. I took some time away from writing because of my disappointment with season 8...I was heartbroken by how the show ended, and I think I just needed a break from the Thrones world. I'm struggling to figure out where I'm going to take the story, so bear with me. Sorry this chapter is a bit short as well. Love you guys, I hope I'm not being too much of a disappointment :'(

Tormund didn’t take the news of Jon’s return to Winterfell very well. When Jon broke the news, Tormund’s big blue eyes filled with tears, yet none fell. The day they left for Winterfell, they stopped to bid farewell to the free folk. Lyanna jumped into Tormund’s arms. He held her close and held her tight. Jon could hear her sniffling. 

“Don’t cry, princess,” Tormund whispered. “We’ll meet again. You can come visit me. Or I’ll come down South and visit you and your father.” He set her down on the snowy ground.

“I will miss you Tormund. I love you,” Lyanna smiled up at him. 

“I love you, little one. Take care of your father for me.”

“I will.” Lyanna returned to Jon’s side. He embraced Tormund. To think that they started as enemies but now were like brothers always amazed him. 

“Farewell, King Crow.” Tormund patted his back so hard, Jon thought he was going to break a rib.

“Farewell, friend. Thank you for everything."

“Always. You come back anytime you need. I wish you good fortune.” 

Jon sighed and pulled back from Tormund’s embrace. He grabbed Lyanna’s hand and began walking to the Northern ship. With one final turn, he waved farewell to Tormund.

Ghost bounded up the dock and onto the ship, flying past Sansa. She was waiting for them on the dock. Lyanna ran to her, leaping into her arms. “Aunt Sansa!”

“Hi, my sweet. Are you ready to see Winterfell?”

“Yay!” Lyanna cheered. Sansa set her down and took her hand. She looked at Jon. 

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Jon sighed. “Aye, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Eventually, they arrived in Winterfell. Thankfully there wasn’t a crowd waiting for their arrival. He saw Arya sparring in the yard with Brienne. They approached, the three of them, and waited until she was done training to get her attention. Lyanna stood behind Jon, frightened by the fighting. Sansa held her hand. Arya took the offensive and was finally facing toward them. She paused, earning her a shove from Ser Brienne, knocking her to the ground. “Yield!” Arya yelled. She launched herself off the ground and ran into Jon’s arms. Her skinny yet toned arms wrapped around him and she squeezed as if her life depended on it.

“Hi, little sister,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek and set her down. She looked at him, her grey eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve missed you.” 

Suddenly, Bran appeared, escorted by Podrick Payne. Jon embraced him, ruffling his hair. He stood again. Arya peeked at the little girl holding Sansa’s hand. “Jon? Who’s this?” Before he could speak, Bran answered Arya. “Her name is Lyanna. She is Jon and Daenerys’ daughter.”

“Daughter?” Arya inquired, looking between Bran, Jon, and Sansa.

“Aye,” Jon started. “She was born before Dany died. We fled the capitol and have been living amongst the free folk.”

“THE KING IN THE NORTH!” A voice yelled. The Stark family turned to the direction of the voice. It was one of the Northern soldiers. When the other townspeople noticed Jon, they joined in the shouting. The crowd surrounded them. Lyanna clutched Jon’s leg. The crowd kept chanting and cheering for Jon’s return. 

“We must have a feast for the King’s return!” someone yelled. The commoners cheered.

“He abandoned us! He left us to starve!” another yelled. Others roared in agreement, some in protest. 

Jon knew he had to act fast before things went out of control. He waved his hand. “Everybody! I can explain. Tomorrow’s eve we will hold a meeting. I can explain everything then. For now, I must be with my family. Please be patient with me. It’s been a long journey and I promise everything I have done is for good reason.”

He picked up Lyanna and ushered his family inside the castle. Jon’s thoughts were racing. He did abandon the North…but he had to prioritize his daughter and her safety. He had to respect Dany’s wishes. He wasn’t sure how to explain the situation to the Northerners. They could be such stubborn shits. He wished Dany could be here, she would know what to do. She always did.


	5. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets with the Northerners and has a heart to heart with Lyanna.

Jon met with the commoners the next evening. He explained everything and pleaded that they would forgive him and try to understand his reasoning for leaving them behind all those years ago. Some were still bitter with the sting of his abandonment, while others were pleased with his return. He knew he had to be patient with them. “Time, Jon. They just need time to adjust,” Sansa had told him.

To Jon’s surprise, it hadn’t taken that long for all to be forgiven. The meeting quickly turned into a feast, with the people of Winterfell getting blissfully drunk. They dined and danced, laughed and sang. From what started as an awkward and uncomfortable reunion, was now a welcoming feast fit for a king. 

There was someone missing from the feast, though. Jon kept Lyanna away from the Northerners, at least for the time being. No one had seemed to notice her the day before, or at least no one mentioned the girl. He wasn’t sure how the commoners would react to her. She was his blood, Dany’s too. He knew that the Northerners had a sour taste in their mouths from Daenerys Targaryen’s presence. That taste had only turned even more bitter once they heard about what happened in King’s Landing. They had feared her since the two had arrived with the Dothraki hoard and the thousands of Unsullied to fight the Great War. Jon had never felt so much rage at his own people. Here was Daenerys, sacrificing everything to help them against the Army of the Dead. The Northerners gave cruel, cold looks to Dany’s people, and her. Northerners had always been wary of outsiders, but this was their Queen. She had come to save them. More than that, wasn’t his love for her obvious? He had loved her, he trusted her, he believed in her…why couldn’t they? 

Jon eventually retired to his chambers, much to the Northerners’ dismay. His head was beginning to pound from the volume of the feast. Or maybe it was the ale. He half-stumbled up the stairs and stopped to check on Lyanna. To his surprise, his daughter was sitting up in her bed, wide awake. “Hi, Father,” she greeted with a smile. “What are you still doing up?” he questioned with a brow raised.

“I’m sad,” she whispered.

He walked to her bed and sat down, reaching for her hand. “What is the matter?” She looked down, not meeting his eyes. “Hey,” he whispered, squeezing her hand gently, “you can tell me.”

“I…I don’t know if I like it here…” 

“Tell me why, little one.” 

“No one likes me…that’s why you’re keeping me away from everyone…” Jon’s heart sank. Maybe his plan of shielding her from the Northerners wasn’t his best plan. But wasn’t he just trying to keep her safe? How would the people react to Daenerys Targaryen’s daughter? Jon’s mind was racing. How does he explain this to her? He too knew the sting of being an outsider.

“Lya…I’m just trying to protect you. It must be this way just for now until things settle down. No one has gotten the chance to even meet you yet. But trust me, they will love you.”

She peered up at him, her grey eyes glistening. “They will?”

Jon thought a minute. “Let me tell you something, my sweet. I know how you feel. When I was a boy, I grew up as an outsider. I wasn’t always treated like I was a part of the family. When things were hard, I felt so alone. Sometimes I just forgot about the people that I knew loved me…my lord father, my siblings, and I always had Ghost. Lyanna, I promise you that you will never feel alone or unloved.” Jon blinked back tears. 

She smiled and threw her arms around him. “You will always have me. I promise you,” he whispered into her hair. 

She pulled back, looking at him. “We have each other, Father. You and me.” She pointed at him, then herself.

“You and me,” Jon repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this seems super short. I'm kind of losing direction for this piece...bear with me.


	6. Chapter 6

Five years later…

It was Lyanna’s tenth name day. She was growing like a weed. “Growing strong” the lords and ladies of Highgarden would say. Jon could hardly believe it. Hadn’t she just been a babe in his arms yesterday?

Lyanna eventually had grown used to Winterfell, and its people had grown used to her. They seemed wary at first because she was Daenerys’s daughter. Why did they only see bad in Daenerys, when there had been so much good? They looked at Lya like she was going to set the castle on fire any minute. But Jon knew he had to give them time. He was a patient man, and he tried to instill that trait in his daughter. But by nature, she was truly Dany’s daughter. She was bold, fierce, and spirited. Although she carried his looks, she was Dany reincarnated. She had her moments where she reminded him of himself, though. When something had annoyed or upset her, she would get that same brooding look that he had. She often liked to be alone, too, just like him. He’d find her reading in the study or praying in the gods wood.

That’s where he found her that morning. She was sitting in front of the weir wood tree, deep in thought. Jon approached and sat next to her. “Happy name day, little one,” he kissed the top of her head.

“But I’m not little anymore,” she replied. Jon laughed. 

“You’ll always be little to me.”

“I want to be more than just a little girl. I want to be a warrior, a dragon rider…like Mother.” Her tone was defiant. He saw so much of Daenerys in her. It made his heart ache with loneliness for Dany, but swell with pride at his daughter who he saw so much of her in. 

“Lyanna. You’re ten years old,” Jon replied.

“I know, Father, but Mother was only a few years older than me when she married and had her first child. And then her dragons hatched of course.” Jon scowled at the thought of Viserys selling Dany off to Khal Drogo. It was hard not to control his rage when he thought of what those men did to her. He about vomited when the thought of Lyanna being in that same position.

“Listen to me. Your mother was still a child when all of that happened. Her brother forced her into it. She didn’t want it. All she wanted was a home, a family. She was so scared, so unhappy. She would not want you to experience the same things. She would’ve wanted you to have the childhood she never had. Plus...the dragons...I don't know what's happened to them...” His mind wandered to Drogon and Rhaegal. Where were they now? Were they alive? Would he ever see them again?

"They're gone? Where did they go?" Lyanna questioned. Jon sighed. "Well, I'm not exactly sure. They left after..."

"After Mother died?" Jon nodded, sadly. 

Lyanna looked back at the tree. “I just wish I could be like her. From everything you told me, she was so strong, kind, and beautiful.”

“Lyanna, I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You are just like your mother. Sometimes I can’t believe how similar you two are. She would be so proud of you. I am so proud of you.” Jon felt tears filling his eyes. Lyanna peered up at him and smiled.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind. “I hate to interrupt this special moment between you two, but there’s a something in the yard waiting for you, Lyanna.” It was Arya. Lyanna jumped up and ran to her. Jon knew what waited for her and grinned to himself. 

“What is it? What is it?” she squealed. Arya threw an arm around the younger girl’s shoulder. 

“You’ll just have to be patient, little one.”

They left the gods wood and entered the yard of the castle. There was a crowd formed in a circle as if to shield something. They departed as Lyanna came closer, revealing a beautiful, silver-white mare.

Lyanna shrieked. “For me?” she turned to face Jon and he nodded. She ran to the horse, throwing her arms around the mare and stroking her shiny mane. Jon approached. 

“Guess what? Your mother had a horse just like this one.” He smiled.

Lyanna threw her arms around her father. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Remember, Lya. Having this horse means that you are responsible for her,” Jon reminded.

“I know, I’ll take good care of her, I promise!” 

“What are you going to name her?” Sansa questioned. 

Lyanna pondered a moment. “What was Mother’s horse named?” Jon scratched his head, trying to remember what Dany had told him. Then it came to him.

“Hmm, well, she hadn’t actually given a name to her horse. She called it her silver.”

“Then that’s her name. Silver.” She kissed the mare’s mane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seems boring and short. I just love writing these sweet scenes between Jon and his daughter. These few chapters are just transitional as Lyanna grows up. Don't worry, there is a lot more to come.


End file.
